


Don't Make It Bad

by esteefee



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-03
Updated: 2011-03-03
Packaged: 2017-10-16 01:48:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/167122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/esteefee/pseuds/esteefee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Danny's had a crap day. Steve wants to make it better.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Make It Bad

"I am having a crappiest day possible," Danny said, appearing once again in Steve's kitchen without knocking, without a doorbell, and hell, Steve was sure he'd locked the door this time. Positive. And right when Steve was finishing up his day-off chores and about to reward himself with some surf time. As much as he always liked to see Danny, the big blue was calling.

"So, uh, Danny—"

Danny had a look on his face about as happy as Steve's dad had been when Mary had come home after joy-riding in the Marquis. "No. Just, no—" Danny pointed at him, "Listening only. Because, you ever have one of those days where absolutely everything rains down on you like a shit-tape parade—and I mean everything?"

Steve opened his mouth, but was stymied when Danny stuck his forefinger in the air. "First of all, number one: there's this sound the Camaro's started making, purely out of nowhere, except you and I both know it's got something to do with it not being good to drive it on only one wheel like that—"

"I could probably fix it for you." Steve nudged him onto the kitchen stool and poured him an emergency cup of coffee.

"You? You? I've seen you working on that Mercury of yours. You couldn't fix your grandma's vibrator."

"Hey!" Steve said feelingly.

"Oh, I apologize. I do. I'm sure your grandmother's vibrator is in excellent condition." Danny took the coffee and had a sip. "Actually, I don't know that at all. Because I don't know the first thing about you, outside the fact you like to drive on one wheel and tuck grenades in my car."

"They do come in handy, though, don't they?" Steve grinned.

"Yeah, I s'pose. For acting like a nutcase." Danny's answering smile was small and short-lived. "And so then I get a pile of EOBs from the insurance company that're just ugly, which say, oh, hey, guess what? All those doctor's visits for my knee? I'm going to have to pay part of 'em. For my _knee_. Which you also broke—"

"Can't fix that. Sorry."

Steve genuinely was, and Danny seemed to get it, because he shrugged and said, "Eh. That wasn't the first go-round with that knee. But thank you." He drank more of his coffee, staring down into it as if it held the cure to his day's woes.

"So?" Steve elbowed him. "That can't be all of it. I've seen you less pissed off when I got you _shot_."

Danny snorted a little at his coffee, then sighed like the wind going out to sea. His entire body got smaller, and Steve instinctively moved closer to him.

"Well, to make my Thursday the tastiest cake you could bake...me and Rachel and the step-Stan had to go over to talk to Grace's school psychologist, because apparently Grace isn't 'adjusting well' to the divorce."

"Aw, no. Danny, she's doing great."

Danny lifted his eyes, and he looked, Christ, like the beach after a hurricane, all chop and confusion and hopelessly torn. Steve couldn't stand it.

"She's fine, Danny. She seems totally fine—" he started helplessly.

"Yeah, well, you didn't know her before. Dr. Marcus has a point, she really does. Grace is a little too quiet nowadays. She keeps it bottled up." There was this aching low note to Danny's voice.

"Maybe she's just grown out of the stage of telling things." Steve remembered when he stopped telling his dad stuff. It was around when Steve could see things were getting pretty serious at his dad's work, actually, and Steve didn't want to bother him.

"You would say that," Danny said a little wryly. "But believe me, that's not normal for a little girl. Or most people, actually."

Steve could take the hit. "So what do _you_ think is going on?"

He watched Danny's hands pushing the coffee cup back and forth on the counter. There was a slight indent where Danny's wedding ring obviously used to sit, and it made Steve throat hurt a little. Who knew why things didn't work out between two people? Only the two people involved, really, and sometimes not even then, so Steve had no right to judge either Rachel or Danny on that front. He only knew, looking at Danny, he couldn't conceive of shoving the guy out of his life. Not ever. Even when he showed up uninvited and bulled his way into Steve's careful schedule.

Actually, maybe particularly then.

"I think," Danny said slowly, chopping the words out, "I think she-she misses me, is what I think. She gets this look." He finished off his coffee and got up to pour some more, his back to Steve. "I sure the hell can't stand saying good bye to her every time, and that's the plain truth."

Steve rose to stand beside him, then risked a hand on his shoulder. "Sorry, man. Can you talk to Rachel about it? Maybe you can get more hours now that this Dr. Marcus is weighing in."

"Yeah, I think—maybe, yeah." Danny smiled a little.

"Yeah." Steve gave Danny a shake. "It makes sense to me. She misses her Danno."

He could tell his voice was way too revealing, or maybe it was the way he couldn't seem to drop his hand from Danny's shoulder, the way he'd stepped in closer than he'd realized, curving around Danny like a question. Yeah, maybe he was being pretty damned obvious, because Danny turned toward him and lifted his head, a strange smile on his lips.

"Yeah? Ya think?"

Steve took a step back and crossed his arms. "Stands to reason. You're her father."

"Oh, no-no-no, my friend. You do not get to pull that." Danny poked him just above the sternum. "Not when my seriously crappy day almost didn't suck in total."

Danny's smile was starting to look less like mockery and more like a welcome, and Steve dropped his arms. "And sucking is bad?" He moved in again, a smile starting on his face.

Danny cocked his head. "In this particular context, yes. In other contexts, not so much."

"That's good to know." Steve was grinning now, and he saw it reflected in the crinkling around Danny's eyes. "Hell, Danny. Seriously?"

Danny's chest puffed up, like a challenge, and that was it. Somehow, Steve wasn't sure how, he was moving before he realized it, thinking, _Gonna do this,_ before he knew there was something to be done, which was, leaning in, tilting his head, finding Danny already there to meet him, mouth wanting to be kissed. _Unbelievable, fantastic_ —Steve had his hand in Danny's soft hair, a fall of silk over his knuckles, and a warm swell of heat rising in his belly at the touch of Danny's tongue slipping across his lips, inside his mouth.

Steve's hip bumped against the counter and it surprised him enough to break the kiss, to pull back. He must have looked startled, because Danny's eyes crinkled again, and he laughed almost silently before it broke out as an almost giggle.

"You should see your face."

"Oh, nice, Williams. Laugh it up." Steve licked his lips, tasting Danny there still. Still unbelievable. Still fantastic. "See if I kiss that mouth again."

"Oh, you will. You'll kiss a lot more than that," Danny said, his voice improbably low and sexy as all hell, making Steve's cock jerk alive in his pants. He reached down and gave his pocket a pull, and Danny let out another half-silent giggle.

Infuriating bastard. After that, Steve was forced to push and tug and generally manhandle Danny up the stairs to his room, because seeing Danny laughing, bright eyed, his hair messed up from Steve's hands, no longer pissed off and miserable from a craptastic day, well—

It was either that or fuck Danny in the kitchen, and Steve had just finished up mop duty.

"You realize I'm going to have to put these back on after we're done," Danny said, when Steve was wrestling him out of his damned shirt and tie. "I only say this because buttons are crucial to that particular stage of the endeavor."

"Shut the hell up. Why do you have to wear button-downs every single fucking day, anyway?"

Danny started to laugh some more, but then Steve had him down with his shirt off and began playing with his nipples, and that made him stop for some reason.

Only to crack wise a little bit later with, "Could you do something about the pants? I think I'm starting to chafe, here."

So Steve had to stop making Danny squirm—which Steve was learning was a really fun thing to do, something he'd like to spend some real quality time on—just to get up and pull Danny's pants off. While he was up, he figured he would strip down himself, so he did with maximum efficiency, giving his poor, aching cock a break.

"Jesus shit, McGarrett. You know, I take back whatever I said about you taking your clothes off too much." Danny was staring hard enough to give him a complex.

Steve paused in the act of tossing his cargo pants at the hamper. "Wait—you think I take my clothes off too much?"

Danny grinned and crossed his arms behind his head, which made him look like some kind of glossy shot from one of the Playgirls Steve absolutely had not swiped from Mary's closet in his teens. "Babe, if you took your clothes off any more often I'd have to arrest you as an unlicensed stripper. Unless you have a license. Do you? Have a license?"

Reaching down to give his cock a quick squeeze, Steve tried to think up a good come-back. But that seemed to do the trick all on its own, because Danny's eyes went wide, and suddenly he was lunging up to yank Steve down onto the bed.

"Son of a bitch," Danny muttered, and then he was skin, and a wet mouth, and green-blue laughing, hot eyes, and warm hands, and Danny, Danny, in Steve's arms, like a good dream, the best kind that he had trouble remembering but put him in a great mood all day long.

"Make it a better day," Steve promised, sucking a kiss along Danny's collar bone. "Best ever." He knew he couldn't really keep it, but he'd damn well try.

"Yeah? Well, you know it sucked, so..."

"So..." Steve grinned and started going down, stopping along the way to sweep his hands over tan and freckles and Danny's blond-dusted skin. Danny's cock was thick and sturdy, just like him, and Steve smiled when he saw it, then closed his mouth around it, and tried to make the day suck a lot more, and a little less.

When Danny came, he sighed under Steve's hands, like the sea hitting the shore.

:::

"See?" Danny said, his fingertips still moving over the tattoo on Steve's left bicep—he seemed to have a kind of fascination with them. Steve had his arm draped over Danny's waist, and could feel the rumble of Danny's voice. "I knew I came to the right place. I thought, I admit it, that you would probably get me into a car chase or have us cliff diving or climbing a giant crane or something, but this is almost as good."

"Gee. Thanks." Steve bit the nearest nipple, which turned out to be a great way to make Danny giggle again. That hadn't been Steve's intent, but good to know. Good to know.

Danny gave his bicep a shake. "No, seriously—where else would I go when everything falls to shit?"

Steve felt himself freeze up a little, and Danny's arm dropped to the side suddenly.

"Not that you really could fix the Camaro, but you'd try. That's all I mean," Danny said quietly.

"Yeah, of course," Steve said, his voice gone rough. He cleared his throat and said carefully, "Anything. And...anytime, you know that, right?" And he tightened his arm around Danny's waist to let him know he didn't have to lie there like cardboard saint or something, like he was afraid he'd screwed up.

Sure enough, after a moment Danny's hand went back to Steve's tattoo. Steve rubbed his cheek against Danny's chest and made a glad sound.

A second later, Danny's hand tickled his ear.

"Cut it out."

Danny did it again.

"Hey!"

"You said 'anything', and I quote."

"So you think that includes tickling? No way, Williams." Steve closed his teeth on Danny's nipple.

Danny giggled.

Maybe not the worst day, after all.

 

 _End._

**Author's Note:**

> Title from "Hey, Jude." Grace always strikes me as a grave little panda.


End file.
